Deadly Undertow Read online

  Another wave swept over her. She coughed, sputtering as water filled her mouth. No sooner did that wave pass over did another rise up. This one lifted her before cresting.

  She looked at her house—a tiny light on the shoreline now.

  She was getting farther and farther away.

  Dear Lord, help me. Please. And help that girl’s mother.

  After uttering the prayer, Cassidy pulled herself together. She had to get out of this current. Giving up wasn’t an option.

  Using her last bit of energy, she began swimming horizontal to the shoreline. If she could just break the grip of the ocean, maybe she’d stand a chance.

  Her arms already felt like gelatin, as did her legs. Cassidy was spent, and she knew it.

  Cassidy paused a moment to rest and gather more energy. The waves continued to toss her. To lift and drop. Smother and push.

  Darkness disoriented her. With every wave that crashed, the way back become more unclear.

  She was going to get through this. She was going to rest a moment and then try again. And she’d keep trying until her feet hit that sandy shore near her house.

  Then she’d have to tell that sweet little girl that she couldn’t find her mother.

  Cassidy could deal with that after she rescued herself, though. Dwelling on it now would only paralyze her.

  She worked herself up, about to start swimming again.

  But before she could, something brushed her ankle.

  What was that? A shark?

  Goosebumps pimpled her skin.

  No, it didn’t feel like a shark. Whatever it was squeezed her ankle.

  And the next thing Cassidy knew, she was yanked under water.

  Chapter Nine

  Ty pulled into his driveway after dropping his cousin off at the campground where he was supposed to be staying. Yes, Ralph had arrived unexpectedly in town. He’d been planning on showing up on Ty’s doorstep in the morning as a surprise—until he’d gotten run off the road right after he left the ferry. His truck would now need some major repair work.

  Ralph and his truck weren’t Ty’s biggest concern right now. Right now, he wanted to get back to Cassidy.

  He started to walk up to Cassidy’s door when his phone buzzed. It was a text message from Cassidy.

  I’m sorry.

  His pulse spiked. She was sorry? For what?

  Ty typed back:

  What does that mean?

  He paused outside her cottage door, anxiety overtaking his muscles. Something was wrong. Really wrong. Kujo barked inside—a frantic kind of bark. Ty tried the door, but it was locked.

  I couldn’t bear to tell you goodbye. But I’ve left. It’s the right thing to do.

  Cassidy had left? What? Why would she do that? They’d talked about this.

  Yet he knew Cassidy just might take things into her own hands, especially if it meant protecting the people she loved. He couldn’t let her do that.

  Where’d you go?

  Her car was still in the driveway, as was her ice cream truck. How did she leave? With Ryan?

  I can’t tell you. I need to stay hidden until the trial. It’s the only way.

  A surge of anger burned inside Ty. How could Cassidy do this? He resisted the urge to punch the wall. It would do no good.

  He should have never left. Had Cassidy been waiting for Ty to leave so she could make her getaway?

  He took a deep breath. He had to calm down.

  Ty had a spare key to Cassidy’s place, and he jammed it into the lock. Stepping inside her house, he glanced around. Everything appeared normal, with no signs of distress. But why had she left her gun on the table? Wouldn’t she take it with her?

  A moment of loss swept over him.

  Cassidy really was gone.

  As if reading Ty’s thoughts, Kujo whined beside him.

  Would she come back? Or was this the end for them?

  Ty couldn’t let himself believe that.

  Cassidy loved him. He’d seen it in her eyes.

  Things weren’t going to end like this.

  If Cassidy was leaving Lantern Beach, she would have to take the ferry. It was the only way off the island since there were no bridges.

  Ty rushed to his truck. With any luck, he could catch Cassidy before she left.

  Cassidy awoke to blackness.

  Total dark without a smidgen of light.

  Where was she? What had happened?

  She could hardly breathe. Hardly move. Not with the questions pressing on her.

  That was when she heard a rumble. Felt bumps.

  She reached for her face but couldn’t move her arms. She jerked them again.

  They were bound behind her.

  She kicked her legs.

  They were bound as well.

  A blindfold. That must be why she couldn’t see.

  At least, she wasn’t gagged too.

  The events of tonight rushed back to her.

  She’d tried to save that woman from drowning. But that woman had never really been out in the ocean, had she? And that little girl . . . she’d lied. Someone had put her up to this somehow. It had all been a trap.

  Another swimmer—a stronger one—had been in those waters, waiting for just the right moment to tug Cassidy under. She must have passed out.

  Maybe there’d been a boat nearby. Maybe someone had pulled her inside.

  She wasn’t sure what had happened after that. She couldn’t remember anything.

  Only now. This moment.

  Cassidy jerked against her restraints again. It was no use. They were too tight. And she couldn’t see to be able to find any tools to help her.

  Maybe she could feel around.

  She moved her hands again, and rough carpet embedded with wood splinters and dried leaves scratched her skin.

  A car. She was in the trunk of a car, wasn’t she? That would explain the bumps. The white noise of the tires rotating against the road.

  Cassidy scooted back and felt around the perimeter of the space. But it was no use. The trunk was empty, with only Cassidy inside.

  Who had snatched her? Greg? Samuel? Where was this person taking her?

  And even worse: what would he do with Cassidy when they got there?

  And then the sounds stopped.

  The car wasn’t moving anymore.

  Cassidy braced herself for whatever was to come.

  Chapter Ten

  Ty raced toward the ferry, desperate to find Cassidy. He’d seen Ryan’s car before and knew it was a dark-blue sedan with rental stickers on the back. If only he could locate it . . . maybe he could stop Cassidy from leaving. Ty could convince her they could do this together.

  Or would Ty be wiser just to let her go? To make her own choices?

  He frowned, and his grip tightened on the steering wheel.

  He wasn’t sure what the right answer was. He only knew he was going to fight for the two of them. He wasn’t giving up this easily.

  Ten minutes later, Ty reached the docks. As he pulled into the loading area, his stomach twisted, and he hit his hand against the steering wheel.

  The last boat of the night glided across the dark water.

  Ty was five minutes too late.

  Five minutes.

  He closed his eyes.

  Lord, what now?

  Only one thought slammed into his mind.

  Don’t give up.

  That was right. He wasn’t going to give up. There was a chance Cassidy wasn’t even on that ferry.

  He threw his truck in park, climbed out, and jogged toward the attendant standing near the entrance of the loading dock. The man’s eyes narrowed before flashing with recognition.

  “I remember you,” the man said. “You and your girlfriend helped get that bomb off the ferry back in August.”

  Perfect. The man already felt some goodwill toward him. “That was me.”

  “You were a real lifesaver that day. Could have turned out a lot uglier.”

  “You’re
right. I’m thankful it worked out like it did.” Ty paused. “Listen, I need a favor. Did you, by chance, see a dark-blue sedan board just now?”

  The attendant glanced at his clipboard and shrugged. “I can’t say I pay that much attention or have that good of a memory. Sorry.”

  The man obviously wasn’t taking this seriously enough. Ty had to get through to him. “It’s really important. If you could just try to remember . . .”

  The man drummed his fingers against the clipboard and looked off into the distance at the lights of the ferry. “I have to be honest. I see hundreds of cars come through here each day. It’s been especially busy this week with the fishing tournament.”

  “There was no car matching that description? No one acting suspiciously?”

  “I’m sorry. I wish I could help. There’s security camera footage, but it’s going to be hard to see much other than license plates since it’s so dark out here.”

  Ty took a step back. He knew the man didn’t have anything else to offer. Talking to him was a dead end. “I understand. Thanks.”

  He might be leaving the docks, but this wasn’t over. Ty just had to figure out his next steps.

  Cassidy waited on the scratchy carpet lining the car’s trunk, anticipating what might happen next.

  She couldn’t stand the fact that she couldn’t see anything. That she couldn’t defend herself. That she was at someone else’s mercy.

  Her wet clothes were beginning to dry, and they smelled like seawater. Strands of her hair clung to her face. Occasionally, she coughed, and water from her lungs began to rattle in her chest.

  What about Ty? Had he returned from helping Ralph yet? Had he discovered she was gone? Would he look for her?

  Or had whoever was behind this planned all of that also? Had they hurt Ty? Had they orchestrated the accident Ty’s cousin was in?

  Cassidy’s heart ached at the thought of it.

  Please Lord, let him be okay. Don’t let him get hurt because of me.

  She’d already searched the trunk to the best of her ability three different times. She’d hoped to find a wrench or a jack or some kind of tool.

  There was nothing.

  So she waited some more.

  Nothing was happening.

  Finally, a door opened and then slammed shut.

  Footsteps sounded. But they faded.

  The driver wasn’t coming to get Cassidy. He was walking away.

  Was this guy just going to leave her here to die?

  The thought caused a surge of panic to rise in Cassidy.

  Someone could leave her here, trapped in the back of this car and unable to get out. It wouldn’t take long for her body to succumb to the ravages of dehydration and lack of food.

  Then Cassidy couldn’t testify. She’d be no good at the trial. In fact, DH-7 leaders might walk free.

  Especially since Samuel had the evidence needed to put them away.

  Sure, Cassidy had a copy of it. But she hadn’t told anyone where she put it.

  Not even Ty.

  Ty gripped his phone. He’d called Mac and told him about Cassidy’s texts and her supposed plan to leave.

  “I’ll be on the lookout,” Mac promised. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but maybe you should let Cassidy do what she thinks is best.”

  Ty was fully willing to do that. He just didn’t think that Cassidy leaving was truly the best thing.

  “Thanks, Mac. Believe me, I’m trying to think through all of the options.”

  “I know you are,” Mac said. “I’ll be in touch if I hear anything.”

  Ty pulled to a stop at the only inn in town and scanned the parking lot. He didn’t see any sedans matching Ryan’s. He needed to confirm if Ryan was here or not.

  After trying to shrug off some of his visible tension, Ty stepped inside and smiled at the woman at the front desk. She put her book down—a romance with a shirtless military man on the front—and her cheeks reddened when she looked up at Ty.

  She cleared her throat before asking, “How can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for someone, and I don’t know if he’s checked out yet or not.”

  “I can’t share that information.” She offered a tight smile, as if awkward about her firm stance. Or maybe it was Ty’s presence that had her acting strangely.

  “It’s important.”

  She shrugged. “That’s what people always say.”

  “Life or death.”

  “Do you have a warrant?”

  Okay, Ty needed to try a different approach here. “I’m afraid my girlfriend is in danger.”

  The woman studied him a moment before averting her gaze. “You’re that former Navy SEAL, aren’t you?”

  He nodded, hoping that fact might work in his favor. “I am.”

  She remained silent a moment before hunching up her shoulders and letting out a sigh. “Did you tell the police?”

  “I just got off the phone with the chief. I really need to know if someone has checked out yet. You would be my hero if you helped me out here.”

  Her cheeks turned pink again. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  She stayed quiet a moment and then let out a sigh. “What’s his name?”

  “Ryan Samson.”

  Her eyes brightened. “Oh, Mr. Samson. He’s a nice man. As far as I know, he’s still here. Said he was staying until tomorrow.”

  “Has anything stood out about him?” Ty knew he was pushing his luck, but he needed to find out as much as he could.

  “He’s on the phone a lot. I don’t know if that helps, though.”

  Just then, the door opened, and Ryan walked in.

  Jackpot.

  But if Ryan was still here, did that mean Cassidy had left alone? And, if so, how had she done that without a car?

  Chapter Eleven

  Cassidy felt certain she’d been in this trunk for hours. Just like she felt certain she would die here.

  Alone.

  How appropriate that the girl who’d prided herself in being independent would have no one there in her final moments.

  She shook her head, trying to snap herself from her thoughts.

  No, that was the old Cassidy—or, should she say, Cady? She’d found her niche here. She had friends. Love. A church.

  She was no longer a lone ranger. A poor little rich girl. A woman living for herself.

  Cassidy coughed again, more water aspirating from her lungs.

  She could have died out there in the ocean. She shivered at the thought. It almost seemed preferable to dying in here now.

  All she remembered was going under. Being certain death was near. But Greg or whoever targeted her must have grabbed her. Pulled her into a boat maybe. Revived her before she died. Had he drugged her also?

  It was a possibility.

  “Help me!” Cassidy yelled again.

  But there was no response—just as there hadn’t been any response when she’d screamed earlier.

  Why were there no noises around Cassidy now? It was totally silent. No waves. No other cars. No crickets or frogs even.

  Where was she exactly?

  Had Samuel orchestrated this? It was the only thing that made sense. Had he sent someone to abduct her?

  But Cassidy never got that sense of threat from Samuel. She’d always felt she could trust him.

  And that was what made all of this even harder.

  She couldn’t just lie here and die.

  It went against every instinct in her. Certainly there had to be a way she could get out of this car—even if she was blindfolded and bound.

  Carefully, she scooted until she hit the back of the trunk. More carpet scratched her fingertips. She’d already checked everything within reach in this trunk.

  Now it was time to check things that were out of her reach.

  Most modern cars had some kind of lever people could pull if stuck in the trunk—if Cassidy could find it. She’d be feelin
g blindly again, but it was worth a try. It beat roasting in here.

  Sweat already covered her skin. Soaked her clothes. Or was that the seawater still? She wasn’t sure.

  It didn’t matter.

  She lifted herself up on her knees and managed to turn so her arms faced the latch area—she thought.

  Where was the button that would release the trunk?

  She couldn’t reach high enough lying on her side like this.

  She managed to arch her back and prop herself up on her knees for just long enough to feel up higher along the edge of the trunk.

  Her fingers connected with something . . . different. A hard plastic? Was this it?

  Still angled into a position that made it hard to breathe, she managed to stay that way long enough to wrap her fingers beneath the lever.

  Cassidy tugged.

  Heard a pop.

  And fresh air swept through the trunk.

  She’d done it! She’d opened the trunk.

  Now she just needed to get out and find help.

  A cry wanted to escape from deep within her. With her binds and blindfold, it would be hard to escape. Nearly impossible.

  But she’d seen the impossible happen before.

  She threw her legs out of the trunk and inched her body forward. She needed to use her body weight to leverage her escape. Finally, the balance tilted, and her body rocked forward. Her feet connected with something soft. Grass, if Cassidy had to guess.

  She drew herself upright and tried to find her equilibrium.

  This was the tricky part.

  Maybe if she could find some woods. Find a stick there to help cut her binds. Find a tree to hide behind.

  Yet she couldn’t see anything. She’d already tried to rub the blindfold off, but it hadn’t worked. The cloth was too tight.

  She hopped forward a step when she felt something on her arm.

  Something grasping her arm.

  “I was curious to see how long that would take you, Ms. Matthews,” a deep voice said. “Well done. Well done.”

  Ty stood in the lobby area of the inn and stared at Ryan Samson. At his neatly pressed clothes. His immovable hair. His confused expression.